


You Need to Stop Showing Up Like This (203)

by GRtheS



Series: Season 2: Unreleased Joints [3]
Category: Luke Cage (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-07 12:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15219059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GRtheS/pseuds/GRtheS
Summary: Shades returns to Mariah's brownstone after she told him to stop dropping by.





	You Need to Stop Showing Up Like This (203)

**Author's Note:**

> Keeping with the season two theme, this series is named after a Pete Rock & CL Smooth album and will be a companion piece of sorts: thirteen short fics that expand upon Mariah, Shades, and/or Comanche scenes/aspects of each episode.

Late night in Harlem. Shades stepped onto the porch outside Mariah’s brownstone and reached for the doorknob, then caught himself. He had half a mind to turn around and go back home, but instead, he knocked.

That very morning, Mariah had banned him from popping up, basically threw him out, called their entire...situation into question. It was unsettling. What the fuck was going on with her? Ever since her daughter showed up, Mariah had been different: changing protocol, making decisions without him…treating him like he wasn’t blowing her back out damn near every morning, noon, and night. Treating him like her feelings had changed. Why was she letting this stranger come between them? They'd both agreed some time ago that family was a choice, that arbitrary blood relation had no say in the matter. He **thought** they'd agreed. But fine, he’d go with the flow like always, play by the new rules for now. She was just working an angle, had to be.

He knocked again. It had been a good day, at least. Between the fundraiser going well, Mark Higgins "agreeing" to sell Atrius, and money coming in from the Jamaicans, things were looking up. They were well on their way to leaving all this street shit behind and it was a fucking relief. The sooner things could go back to normal for them, the better.

Still silence on the other side of the door. What the hell was she doing in there? He slammed his hand against the frame and fished around in his pocket for his key.

Suddenly, the door swung open. There was Mariah looking bewildered and a little pissed.

He matched her energy. “You asked me to announce myself. I called, too, but you didn’t answer.“ She rolled her eyes and walked away.

What a welcome. Patience already thin, Shades closed the door behind him and followed her into the dining room. He scanned the scene, expecting the worst. “Tilda here?"

"No. She’s at home, pissed or something.” Her words garbled. She wobbled a little, gripping the back of a chair for balance. Sloppy. Very un-Mariah.

Shades examinedan empty whisky bottle on the dining room table, three empty tumblers sitting beside it. “I see you ladies had a lively breakfast.” 

Mariah laughed bitterly, keeping her back to him. “Tilda doesn't drink brown liquor.”

Shades’ eyes widened, his annoyance quickly turning to worry. ”You finished it by yourself? This bottle was almost full when I left this morning."

She looked over her shoulder and cast him a mean sideye. "So?" 

"So...” He took her by the waist, turned her towards him. “I don't know how you're standing right now, let alone having a halfway coherent conversation." He moved his hands up to her arms, rubbing them gently.

She stared at him blankly, not quite present.

He shook his head and tried to guide her to the staircase. “Let me take you upstairs."

She wrenched out of his grasp and pushed him away, nearly knocking herself over in the process. “Get your goddamn hands off me!"

Great, an outburst. That's what they needed tonight. “Ok, fine." He stepped into the living room unbuttoning his suit jacket, laid it on the back of the couch. "I'll just sit here and wait." He plopped down, clasping his hands together, looking at her expectantly.

“Wait for what," she slurred.

"For you to sober up or pass out. Then I'll **carry** your ass to bed."

Mariah blinked a couple times and a sly smile spread across her face. “Bed, huh?"

"Mariah..." He shook his head: _absolutely not._

She staggered towards him-

"You're drunk,” he warned.

-and pushed him back on the couch.

She loomed over him, cocked her head to the side. "That never stopped you before"

"What?" He bolted upright. Now she was freaking him out.

She fell to her her knees, and attacked his belt buckle, fumbling to undo his pants.

"Stop, stop!" He grabbed her wrists, restraining her, and yelled, “what is wrong with you?" She froze, suddenly consumed with terror. Scared himself, Shades immediately let her go. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t know what to say or do. He peered at her, face awash with concern ”what’s wrong?"

She looked up at him, blinked. Shook her head like she was just now realizing where she was. Her eyes welled up with tears. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he reassured her, unconvinced that it actually was.

She shook her head, sat back on her feet, and began to cry.

He slid off of the couch, joining her on the floor. Tried to take her in his arms, but she jerked away from him.

“Okay,” he nodded. "Okay." He leaned back, resting his elbows on the couch. “I’ll just sit here.” 

She nodded gratefully. Rested her head on his chest, clung to him. Didn’t stop crying.

Shades was at a loss. He couldn't comfort her, talk to her. All he could do was wait. _What the fuck?_


End file.
